The Phoenix, 2022

The Assassination of Mr. Kennedy from Secret Service Agent Rich by Richie Pineda By 11:55 Sunday morning, President John F. Kennedy was going about his typical routine of playing out every scenario that could possibly occur for the upcoming 1964 election. As usual, I was standing close by his side, keeping a lookout for any potential threats, as he played fetch with his dog on the warm Spring morning. John and his Vice President, Lyndon Johnson, fully knew that they had won the 1960 election by a slim margin. Because of this, they knew that they had to carry some states in the south in order to win in ‘64. They needed two states with a large number of electoral votes, and so far, they had only selected one.

Florida. All of John’s time was taken up by making calls to different governors and contemplating which state to pick. As he threw the ball into the distance for his terrier, he whispered, “Texas is the one. Texas is the one, Rich.” “I love the idea, Mr. President,” I replied, “Me and my secret service boys will love the heat down there.” From this moment on, we looked forward to our trip to Texas. One that I would never forget.

In August of 1960, Jackie Kennedy was about seven and a half months pregnant with her third child. She had been living in Cape Cod’s Squaw Island for the summer while her husband was doing a diplomatic tour of Europe. I was assigned to Mrs. Kennedy for the entirety of the trip, and I had a splendid time with her and her two young kids.

Just like any other day, Mrs. Kennedy was taking five-year-old Caroline and two-year-old John Jr. for their daily horseback riding lessons in nearby Osterville. However, suddenly, Mrs. Kennedy was paralyzed by pains in her back and stomach. She immediately leaned over to me and cried, “The baby is coming. Gather the children and return them to the Squaw Island house. I need to go to the hospital.” On the helicopter ride to the hospital at Otis Air Force Base, Mrs. Kennedy said to the doctor, “Dr. Walsh, you’ve got to get me to the doctor on time. I don’t want anything to happen to this baby.” Later, she continued, “This baby mustn’t be born dead.” “We’ll have you there in plenty of time,” replied the Doctor.

When Mrs. Kennedy gave birth to Patrick in the hospital, his cry was barely audible. He was delivered by cesarean section after just thirty-four weeks. As I stood at the door of the hospital room, I knew the odds of the baby making it were not high. After two long days of fighting, baby 66